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by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Essentially fluff with porn, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, well domestic for winchesters, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3479153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps they’d lived on cheap beer and bad food for too long. Grown up without enough outside socialization. Perhaps after taking down so many monsters, the line between right and wrong got a little blurred. Maybe you can’t look into hell without a little of it crawling back inside you. Whatever the reason, Sam and Dean were two halves of the same person, and they had found each other in a way not many would understand or have compassion for, but they had seen too much and taken one too many bullets for the other to give a flying fuck about other people’s opinions. For them, being together was as easy as breathing. Maybe even easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

Freeview Motel - just about the cheapest place in town to get two beds and a roof that didn’t also come with bonus bedbugs. Sam shifted himself against the door as he keyed in – the building far too cheap to bother updating to electronic key cards – and used his shoulder to help coax the stiff barrier into swinging free from its frame. Shaking his shoulders to dislodge as much rainwater as possible, Sam squirmed inside away from the damp night air. The small room he and Dean had been calling home for the last week was littered with personal effects – clothes on the floor, takeout on the counter, the table a clutter of papers, photographs, a few library books, five empty beer bottles, two knives, and a sawn off rifle.

 

He kicked off his boots and dropped two bags of groceries on the counter next to some three day old Chinese food. Maybe Dean would take a hint, and realize that “stomach” is not synonymous with the word “trashcan”.

 

The older of the two men lay sprawled out on the far bed, Sam’s laptop open on his stomach. His short hair stood up all askew, still damp from either a shower or going outside. Judging by the lack of t-shirt or socks, Sam would guess shower.

 

Dean grunted acknowledgement at Sam’s arrival, but didn’t look up.

 

“Dude, please tell me you’re not using my computer to watch porn again.” Removing one of his soaked socks, Sam fired it across the room.

 

“Hey!” Dean ducked, raising a hand to shield his face from the flying stink bomb. It missed him by a few inches. Sam’s wet foot smell wasn’t something he wanted to get more closely acquainted with. “If you must know, Sammy boy, I’m doing some research.” Dean shifted, moving the computer back to the bed, and turning onto his side so he could view both the screen and his brother.

 

“Uhuh, I bet. So tell me, have you figured out which state has the highest percent of all female universities yet?” He smirked, and whipped his second sock, this one hitting its mark square on Dean’s forehead.

 

“Cut it out, Sam.” Dean swatted the offending article of clothing onto the floor, but though his voice was stern, Sam caught a slight upturning at the corner of his brother’s mouth.

 

Sam tossed the keys onto the table before throwing up his arms in mock gesture. “Fine, I’ll behave.”

 

“You’re only saying that because you ran out of wet socks to throw.”

 

“True.”

 

“Asshat.”

 

“Take’s one to know one.”

 

Sam shrugged off his jacket, and hung it haphazardly on the back of a chair. “So. With all this research, have you found a new case?”

 

Dean shifted around on the bed again, pectorals rippling as he bunched a pillow to tuck under his arm. “Nah. There were some cattle deaths in north Wisconsin, but turns out they had just gotten into poison. Tough luck for the farmer, but not really indicative of any demonic activity.”

 

Sam’s eyes twinkled. “Guess that means we have the night off.” He lowered himself onto his own bed, crossing his arms behind his head, and leaning back into the mattress. He looked over at Dean, something reminiscent of childlike joy on his face. That look didn’t show up too often now that they were grown – it made Dean cherish it even more when it made an appearance.

 

“What, so I do _all_ this research, slaving away over a hot computer all afternoon, and you just get to kick up your feet?” Dean’s mock indignation drew an even deeper grin from the younger brother, who rolled his eyes and looked to the ceiling.

 

Dean continued, just as emphatically. “I didn’t even take a _me-time_ break, if ya know what I mean… “

 

A pillow was launched towards Dean, cutting off his statement. “Don’t want to hear about it, you perv!”

 

Years of military style training had their perks, however, and Dean had the pillow snatched up and sent on a return trajectory back across the room before it had a chance to land. “Oh, you asked for it!” His green eyes flashed with mischief. “No one calls me a perv and lives to tell the tale!”

 

Sam managed to get an elbow up to block his face in time. “Sorry, I forgot! You’re an honorable and upstanding man who always _pays cash_ for his smutty videos.” His gaze held a teasing challenge.

 

“Damn straight!” Dean moved two fingers in a mock salute, and promptly grabbed his own pillow, rolling off the bed towards Sam.

“Watch my computer!”

 

“Seriously? Your computer is what you’re worried about?” Dean held his pillow high, and began an assault of the most brutal variety possible with such a fluffy object.

 

“Loser has to cook dinner!” Dean was looking forward to kicking back and gloating while Sam whipped up something with those “healthy” groceries he had returned with earlier.

 

“You’re on!”

 

Sam, at the distinct disadvantage of still being seated, put up a valiant effort to regain ground in this fight. He dished out a series of two handed pillow whollops right to Dean’s stomach, using his own larger body mass to his advantage. Dean responded by reaching a hand out to roughly muss Sam’s hair, attempting to pull him into a headlock whilst keeping his pillow in close reach, tucked under his arm. Yells of protest punctuated with laughing emerged, as Sam quickly stood up – effectively throwing off his brother’s center of gravity. Sam slipped his brother’s grasp, and landed a few well aimed blows right to Dean’s face.

 

“Hey, no fair!” Dean called out, voice muffled by cheap hotel polyester.

 

Sam shot forward, capturing his brother’s head to dish out his own rough retaliatory hair muss. “Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” His eyes danced.

 

Dean reached out and snaked his arms around Sam’s waist, then used some quick footwork to knock his younger brother off balance. The two fell back loudly onto Dean’s mattress, limbs askew and thrashing as Sam attempted to right himself again, Dean using the shifting momentum to land on top of his brother and abandoned his pillow. He then shot his hands up to hold Sam’s wrists safely above their heads, pinned and out of play. Dean shifted his legs to a more strategic position, straddling Sam’s waist. He ground his hips into his brothers just for good measure. Having the upper hand, Dean shot Sam a look that was pure smugness before leaning down and putting his lips to Sam’s ear.

 

“I win.” He paused to smile seductively. “Guess you’re cooking tonight, bitch.”

 

His mouth lingered, ghosting hot air along Sam’s neck, tickling at the mane that was well past needing a cut. Truth be told, Dean kinda liked Sam’s long hair. Gave him something to grab onto.

 

Sam groaned ever so lightly underneath him, and Dean released one hand to rake possessively up his brother’s torso, rucking up his shirt as he went.

 

Sam arched up, capturing the lobe of Dean’s ear in his teeth briefly before whispering back his own reply.

 

“Don’t get cocky….”

 

The warm and smug voice barely registered before Dean found himself being upended, the hand on Sam’s wrist captured, and himself suddenly rolled onto his back with the larger of the two now perched comfortably atop him.

 

Dean should have seen that coming.

 

Sam smiled down at him, the smug little bastard. “So, I’m thinking Italian? A nice pesto sauce to go with that whole wheat pasta I picked up?”

 

Dean wrestled and struggled against Sam’s grip, but it was no use. Sam had him pinned good and tight.

 

“Oh fuck off…..” He thrashed and strained one last time, to no avail. “Uncle! You win, ok? Now get off, you big oaf.”

 

Sam, however, didn’t intend on losing the benefits of this current position quite so quickly. He leaned in a bit, head looming over Dean’s. “Now, what was it you said earlier? Something about calling you a perv and living to tell the tale?”

 

The slight sting to his ego inflicted by being outwrestled by his baby brother had Dean in a slightly more confrontational frame of mind.

 

“Bite me.”

 

Sam slid down his brother’s torso ever so slightly while still holding his hands above his head, his rucked up shirt allowing hot skin to rub against Dean’s already bare chest. His voice was gravelly with lust when he spoke.

 

“That can be arranged.”

 

Blood rushed strait to Dean’s groin. “Fuck, Sammy….”

 

Sam chuckled darkly, and began circling his hips down into Dean’s. Being pinned so expertly didn’t allow much wiggle room, but Dean did his best to reciprocate.

 

His breath stuttered out in short little puffs as Sam leaned forward and started dragging his teeth across his chest. After leaving a line of small nips up to his collarbone, Dean was practically crawling out of his skin with pent up energy.

 

“Damn it, Sammy, give me my hands back!”

 

Sam replied while mouthing over that particularly sensitive spot on Dean’s neck. “And what will you do with them if I let you go?” You could practically hear the enjoyment dripping from his voice.

 

Dean growled in response, trying to assert some dominance over this situation. Of course he would end up with a lover who was also a first class tease.

 

Sam merely laughed, moving his lips to finally capture his brother’s mouth. The kiss was hot and rough, a give and take of teeth and tongues and lips. Dean tried to shift out from under Sam’s vice-like grip, attempting to raise a knee, slide a wrist away, or roll them over. Sam’s response was to take Dean’s lower lip between his teeth, gaze into Dean’s eyes, and bite. Hard.

 

“Fuck, you kinky bastard!”

 

Sam sat back and laughed, finally allowing his brother to regain autonomy over his arms.

 

“You’ll pay for that, you little twerp.”

 

“I was only doing what you asked, Mr ‘Bite-Me’.” The last few words were said in a mocking impression of Dean’s voice.

 

Dean smiled back up at his brother, and he shook his head at the comment. _God, he loved this man. Six foot four, easily pushing two hundred pounds of solid muscle, sitting on top of him in wet jeans and bare feet, with a megawatt smile spread lopsidedly across that puppy dog face._ Dean’s gaze softened.

 

“C’mere.” Dean rose to sitting, Sam scooting back slightly to give Dean the room. The blond captured his brother’s face in his hand, caressing along his jawline before leaning in for a slow kiss.

 

They relished the contact, a sharp contrast to the heated interactions of a few minutes ago. When it naturally broke apart, Sam leaned his forehead into Dean’s, his eyes remaining closed.

 

“If that was paying for it, you’re not making a very strong case for me to stop playing rough.”

 

The laugh lines around Dean’s eyes crinkled as he grinned into his brother’s chest. “Maybe I should kiss you again, just so the lesson sinks in?” He leaned up, gazing into the soft depths of Sam’s eyes.

 

Sam practically whispered. “Maybe you should.”

 

It was all the invitation Dean needed.

Dean twined his hand back into Sam’s hair, twisting it gently through his fingers and using it to guide his mouth back into place. The pace stayed slow and sweet, each finding new places to caress and touch on the other. Face, back, waist, hair. The gentle cadence of their affections found them moving back onto the bed, this time Sam lying to the side of Dean, giving them maximum maneuverability for their actions.

 

Dean moved his hands to his brother’s waist and started playing with the belt loops of his jeans, then running his fingers up and down Sam’s spine.

 

“Sammy, this shirt’s gotta go. You’re wearing too much clothing.”

 

Sam, who was currently placing gentle kisses on the underside of Dean’s jaw, moved his shoulders in reply, allowing Dean to ruck up the shirt and pull it over his head.

 

No matter how many times Dean saw Sam shirtless, he was still left slightly dumbfounded at the sight of him. He scanned his hands over his body, as if he hadn’t already memorized every dip and rise in Sam’s body.

 

Sam didn’t stay passive for too much longer, and now that they were equally shirtless, the pace picked up for them to shuck their pants too. The clothing was dumped onto the floor, joining the growing pile of laundry that had accumulated there. Left in just their boxers, the boys regrouped on the bed, Dean pulling Sam close to his chest for a moment.

 

 _Dean, I could never get used to this._ Sam breathed in his brother’s scent, musky and sweet despite the shower he had taken earlier that day. He set about caressing every inch of Dean that he could reach, trailing kisses all over in pursuit of his fingertips. Dean muttered in approval. Sam kissed the hollow of Dean’s hipbone in response.

 

“Tell me what you want.” Sam’s voice was sultry and low.

 

Dean chuckled softly, his head thrown back on the mattress. “Want me to talk dirty to you, baby boy?”

 

Sam slid back on top of his brother, arching his back and sliding his hips in the most tantalizing way possible.

 

“Not a baby, Dean.”

 

“No, Sam, you sure as hell ain’t.”

 

Dean dragged his hands over the large shoulders above him. Sam had surpassed him in both height and weight long ago. Dean reached up and captured Sam’s face once again, pulling him down into a possessive embrace. Sam moved his hips in circular motions, slowing out each drag across his brother’s growing erection.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam. The things you do to me.”

 

“Nothing compared to what I’m going to do.” Sam punctuated his statement by nipping on Dean’s earlobe. He slid one of his brother’s legs up over his own, sliding his own legs so he was essentially kneeled and hovering over his brother’s torso. He then hooked his fingers under the waistband of Dean’s boxers (slightly ratty – he made a mental note to drag Dean into Walmart sometime this week to buy new ones) and tugged them just low enough to allow him access.

 

Dean hissed when Sam’s hand first touched him, the sensations sending his head reeling a bit. He kept waiting for the time when Sam’s grasp didn’t have him seeing stars, but the tall brunet still snuck up on him every time, Dean being rendered as sensitive as a teenager.

 

“Good?” Sam, forever checking in.

 

“Hell yeah.” Dean arched his back briefly before resettling into a more comfortable position.

 

Sam loved this part. A turn of the wrist, slight squeeze of the hand. Dean, warm and familiar underneath him, his touch turning him to melted butter right here on the bed. The little hitches of breath, the way Dean’s eyelashes fluttered unintentionally, those small noises the older Winchester couldn’t hold back. Sam ached just watching it.

 

He slid his hand free for a moment, and Dean’s eyes shot open. His voice was breathy and hot when he spoke.

 

“Don’t stop.”

 

“Calm down, Deano. I’m just sliding these boxers down a little further, they’re getting in the way.”

 

Dean lifted his hips to assist Sam, who ended up just removing them completely. It would save time later. Dean moaned, and mumbled something about “keeping it even.”

 

“Geez, Dean. We haven’t even started and you’re already wrecked.” Sam smiled down at him, adoration mixed with teasing in his tone. “Now what was that?”

 

“Take yours off too. Wanna feel you.”

 

The rush that flew south stole most of the oxygen from his brain for a second, but as soon as he recovered, he dropped that last scrap of clothing faster than a hot coal. Dean was on him in a matter of seconds, pulling Sam back on top of his body. Sam stumbled a bit, pressing a bit more of his weight into Dean than he had meant to, their pelvises crashing together and sending a wave of sensation shooting up Sam’s spine. Before he could pull back and reposition, Dean clasped two hands firmly onto Sam’s arse, holding him in place. The boys stilled for a moment.

 

“So fucking beautiful. My Sammy.”

 

After some tender kissing, hips began rolling once again. Heat and friction working together with the sweat of their firm bodies made for an intoxicating mix of slick and staccato. Dean moaned into Sam’s mouth. Sam replied by running his hands, nails pressed into tanned flesh, up and down Dean’s back. He leaned in and growled in his brother’s ear, breathing heavy and fast.

 

“I’m gonna ask again, Dean. What do you want?”

 

Dean was hard pressed to find his voice in amidst the pleasure that Sam was currently drawing from him.

 

“Want….. I want you.”

 

“You want me to top tonight?”

 

“Fuck. Yes, Sam. I want you to top tonight. Do I have to spell it out for you? I want your fucking dong inside of my ass. The sooner the better.” Dean let out an exasperated laugh.

 

“Jesus Christ. Dean, promise me you won’t say that ever again. You have definitely been watching too much porn.” Sam sounded about as deadpan as possible given the current situation. He broke into laughter along with his brother, and muttered under his breath. “Dong. Honest to God….”

 

“Well, you were having trouble taking the hint! Thought I’d make it as clear as possible.” Dean rutted up into his brother again, running his hand against Sam’s groin, trying to keep the conversation on topic.

 

Sam moaned. “Okay, point taken.”

 

He stretched out over Dean, and reached for the dresser drawer. After fumbling it open, he searched around with one hand until locating the small bottle of lube rolling around inside. He continued to feel around, but couldn’t find anything else in the drawer except for that small Gideon bible that seemed to be in every hotel or motel they ever stayed in. Sam laughed at the irony.

 

“Dean, tell me we’re not out of condoms.”

 

Dean sighed, and pushed himself up on his elbow. “Check my coat. There should be a couple in the inside pocket.”

 

Sam shot him a quizzical glance, then continued with a wry tone. “Dean – stepping out on me? I’m surprised at you.”

 

His brother responded by giving him a firm slap on the ass. “Don’t get your panties in a knot. I put them there incase we felt like…. ya know, after a case or something.”

 

“Sex? In the Impala?” Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Defile your baby?”

 

“I think she’d understand.” Dean took the bottle of lube from Sam. “Now, seeing as I can’t move with you sitting on top of me, are you gonna go get that condom, or are we just gonna sit here discussing the weather?”

 

“So damn impatient!” Sam smirked down at his brother, then rose to collect Dean’s coat from where it lay in front of the bathroom door. Standing up straight, he stretched out the kinks from having leaned on his elbows for too long then walked across the room. After retrieving the desired item, he turned and sauntered back to the foot of the bed, where he paused.

 

“Liking the view there, Sam.” Dean rose his eyebrows comically, then stretched out on the bed. Sam looked down at his own erection, still hard and leaning up against his stomach. He had the sudden and silly desire to do a little ‘already-naked-strip-tease’, but didn’t get much past striking a silly pose and putting on a pouty face before Dean whipped the pillow at him.

 

“Alright prima donna. What do you say we get this show back on the road?”

 

Sam smiled, and crawled back onto the bed. Before he had fully reached his brother, Dean leaned up and captured his mouth. The kiss deepened quickly, and Dean moved his hand down to stroke Sam, causing the brunet to moan in pleasure. Without breaking lip contact, he reached for the lube from where it was laying on the bed, applying liberally to the first two digits of his right hand. When he broke the kiss to breathe, he moved his fingers down to Dean’s opening, stroking gently against the skin to let Dean know what was coming. After a minute or two, when the lube had a chance to warm up a bit, Sam slid one finger inside, slowly prodding around until Dean began to relax.

 

“Ok?” Sam inquired.

 

Dean grunted positively, and moved his mouth to Sam’s neck.

 

“Good.”

 

When it seemed he could handle it, Sam slid in the next finger, scissoring gently to open him up. Dean took a deep breath and exhaled – arching his back into Sam’s hand.

 

“Fuck Sam, so good.”

 

Sam smiled, and continued his ministrations. Dean was letting out little whimpers of pleasure every so often, and Sam could feel him clenching around his fingers. Even if he never got off, this alone made sex worth it – seeing how undone Dean became just from Sam’s own actions. Dean was palming at Sam’s back, and kept straightening and un-straightening his left leg. Sam planted kisses to Dean’s shoulders, and used his other arm to hold Dean in the small of his waist, keeping his hips tilted up as he wriggled underneath him.

 

“Sam, hurry it up. Need you inside me.”

 

Sam slid in a third finger, then, at Dean’s insistence a fourth. Dean’s muscles finally seemed to be clueing in to what was going on, remembering past occasions, and gave in - relaxing beneath Sam’s hand. Dean was no longer able to stifle the moans or the small snippets of words that slipped out of his mouth.

 

“Please Sam……..OH GOD right there……..GHNNNN…yes……..Jesus Fuck, SAM CMON!”

 

“You sure you’re ready?” Sam leaned in close, and slowed his movements, aiming to get a coherent answer out of his brother.

 

“YES JESUS CHRIST AND ALL THE SAINTS SAM, YES! Now DON’T make me ask again!”

 

Yup, Dean sounded ready.

 

Sam removed his hand, wiping it off on his leg before tearing into the condom packet and rolling it on. After lubing up, he scooted forward to place his knees near to Dean’s ass.

 

“Dean.”

 

Dean leaned up, and pulled his knees to a bent position. Leaning on one elbow, he reached forward for one last harried kiss. Tongues still locked, Sam lined up and slowly pushed in. The pressure was almost overwhelming, and Sam stilled so Dean could get a chance to adjust. They stayed there, chests heaving with labored breath, until Dean began to squirm and keen with impatience.

 

“God, you feel so good.” Dean pulled at Sam’s back, trying to draw him in closer. Sam complied, trying to keep his back arched so the angle would still work.

 

It was hot and heavy, both bodies tangled together in an intricate dance they had choreographed so many times before. Dean swore he knew Sam’s body better than his own by this point. He focused on the overwhelming sensations building within him as Sam hit all the right places, firing him up like a fine tuned motor. Sam’s rough lips, slightly chapped, tickled their way along his jawline, and each breath was truncated by a little forced exhale as Sam thrust back into Dean. The slick and slide, skin on skin with hands on waists and shoulders, mouths urgent and seeking, knees chafing against cheap hotel linen, sweat beads gathering along hairlines. This is what Dean lived for.

 

Perhaps they’d lived on cheap beer and bad food for too long. Grown up without enough outside socialization. Perhaps after taking down so many monsters, the line between right and wrong got a little blurred. Maybe you can’t look into hell without a little of it crawling back inside you. Whatever the reason, Sam and Dean were two halves of the same person, and they had found each other in a way not many would understand or have compassion for, but they had seen too much and taken one too many bullets for the other to give a flying fuck about other people’s opinions. For them, being together was as easy as breathing. Maybe even easier.

 

Dean stuttered into orgasm first, fingers digging into Sam’s back in a way that would leave marks. He cried out and arched his back, his brother holding him tight as he rode it out, slowing his pace so as not to overwhelm him, but oh-so-fucking-close himself that he couldn’t stop moving entirely. All through the high, Dean could only mutter half coherent snippets of “Sammy, Sammy, my Sammy” deep into his brother’s thick mop of brown wavy hair. When Sam came not a minute later, he was kissing Dean, the force of his orgasm causing him to bite down slightly too hard on Dean’s lip, drawing a small amount of blood. The hot metallic taste swam through his senses as he rolled his hips, still inside of Dean, wave after wave of euphoria hitting him and pulling him under.

 

When Sam had slid out, they lay there in each other’s arms in silence for a while, listening to the other breathing. Dean ran his hands haphazardly through Sammy’s hair, pulling at the ends of it gently as he wrapped the strands around his fingers. Sam immersed himself in Dean’s heartbeat, listening as it slowed from just-finished-coming intensity down to a relaxed and sleepy thrum.

 

Sam snagged off the condom sleepily, knotting it shut before lobbing it into the garbage can over by the table, then curled back up in Dean’s arms. Sam’s voice was dozy and slurred when he finally spoke.

 

“Don’t think this means you get out of making dinner.”

 

Dean chuckled quietly, and continued to stroke his brother’s hair as Sam drifted off to sleep.

 

 

 

**************************************** 

 

 

 

Sam rolled over in bed, awoken by the clanging of a frying pan being jostled around on the motel stove. He stretched languidly, and breathed in the aroma of fresh basil and olive oil. Another pot was simmering with what Sam guessed was pasta – seems Dean had taken his suggestion on Italian. Dean was humming Metallica as he mixed something else into the pan, and took a swig from the beer he held. He noted that blankets had been pulled over him at some point between when he had fallen asleep and now. Sam smiled. He was warm, and the pillow beneath him smelled like Dean. He was still in his brother’s bed.

 

The evening was late. From what Sam could see it was still raining outside, the water glinting off the fluorescent VACANCY sign out in the parking lot. But having Dean here, boxer clad in the room, cases to work, cheap lightbulb humming its weary tune to the lonely traveler, and the smell of sex burnt onto his skin; Sam couldn’t have felt any more at home.


End file.
